


You Say Expulsion, I Say Explosion

by AnonEhouse



Series: Tiny Tony 'verse [11]
Category: Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:43:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is fourteen. Tony is bored. Tony is going to have a blast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Say Expulsion, I Say Explosion

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Tony has a genetic predisposition for things that go bang. This is quite possibly the real reason he's never been allowed ammunition. It's slightly inconvenient not to have access to pre-made gunpowder, but hey, he has plenty of sulfur and potassium nitrate. For fuel he considers sugar, but the cooks no longer allow him in the kitchen- and they have cleavers. Maybe he shouldn't have switched all the spices into wrongly labeled containers one day when he was bored, but they should thank him. He thinks the anise meatloaf was actually an improvement over their regular recipe.

Tony goes on a hike with his assigned watchdog of the day, and this time looks at all the trees with a new interest. He's pretty sure he would recognize a willow tree or grapevine, but hazel, elder and laurel are just words to him. That doesn't matter, though, because dragging back a tree to burn for charcoal... not really feasible, and difficult to explain. "I want to collect pine cones." Tony opens the big burlap bag he's brought and stuffs in a few pine cones as an example before giving his watchdog the big, sad, puppydog eye routine. It sometimes works with the male agents.

"Why?" the man asks. He's one of the more impressive agents, over six feet tall and lightning fast, as Tony discovered when he tried for a run one day, just to test the limits. He got rather seasick being carried back to school over the man's shoulder. 

"For Christmas. I haven't been home..." Tony pauses, but refrains from trying to squeeze out a tear, because he's not sure he really remembers how to fake that convincingly. "I want to make decorations. Paint them gold, maybe get a tree to hang them on."

"It's June."

"It's going to take a long time. I want to make a lot of them. Hundreds! I want to put them all over the school." Tony has done weirder things than cover the school in gilt pine cones. Last week he ran squirrels in remote-control 'race cars' through the mess hall while the P.A. system played the Rolling Stones' _Start Me Up_.

The agent shrugs and helps Tony collect pine cones.

After word gets around, Tony starts finding bags of pine cones left outside his lab. Really, spies can be nice guys.

Rendering pine cones down into charcoal is a bit tricky. So is producing gunpowder with the exact properties he requires. There are a few smoky set-backs, but nothing dramatic enough to cause alarm. After all, Tony has been creating loud noises and strange smells all his life and the novelty has worn off at school. A muffled *CRUMPH* and trickles of black haze out the windows brings a shouted, "Tony, you idiot!" from the nearest passerby who only pauses long enough for Tony to reply, "I'm good! I'm fine! The fire's out!" 

Really, Tony would have been ready much sooner, but he feels a certain artistic element in his soul demands expression. He wants everything to be absolutely perfect. "Potassium perchlorate, 70%," he sings to Arthur's Theme, played very, very loudly, (agents apparently are allergic to rock music and this grants him a measure of privacy) as he measures ingredients, "I know it's crazy, but it's trueee, when you're caught between polyvinyl chloooooride, and red gum... the best that you can do, the best that you can do... is copper oxide, and strontium carbonate, too!" Tony grins in the pause after the chorus. "Blue violet... that'll be good for the middle of the show." And then he sings, "Tony, he does what he pleases!"

Tony makes a beautiful box kite, red, white and blue, with streamers and flappers that buzz. He flies it over the school on the fourth of July. "NO, No, NO, not the kite-eating tree," he shouts, pulling on the control lines as various agents give various bits of useless advice. "ARGGH!" The kite crashes into a crumpled heap, monofilament line stretched across the school, just missing the chimney near the kitchens. Tony flings down the rest of the line. "Don't touch that! I have to remember the angle!" Then he hauls out paper, pencil and slide rule, and mutters to himself until everyone's gone.

The moon is a new sliver that night, which is convenient. Tony, wearing a black pullover and black sweatpants, ties a black rope ladder to the monofilament on one side of the building, then goes around to the other side to pull it up. Spies have the best stuff. The ladder weighs nearly nothing and is practically invisible. He ties it down at both ends, and then climbs up onto the roof, hauls up his toys and positions them according to his mental diagram. He almost gets caught on the way back to his room to change into his pajamas, but his ninja skillz... well, he's lucky.

Tony looks around the room he's lived in for over four years, at the gadgets and books and... no. He can't take anything. He can't save anything. He doesn't need anything. He remembers. That's enough. He picks up a little black box, and flips the first switch on it. The fire alarm goes off throughout the school.

They have fire drills at random times throughout the year. Everyone is calm as they assemble on the lawn in front of the school in the dimly lit helicopter pad. "Roll Call," the director shouts. "STARK!"

Tony is always called first, ever since the time he hadn't heard the alarm because Joan Jett was serenading him while he soldered things. "HERE!" he shouts. Tony really does like most of the agents and some of the cooks, so he waits until roll call is concluded, and he's sure everyone is out of the building before he presses the second switch on his black box.

The roofline bursts into screaming fountains of light, white flares, silver shooting stars, streaks leaping up into the heavens. Fireworks blast noise and glitter. There are great orange chrysanthemums, snapping green dragons, cascades of silver firefalls. He can barely hear people shouting as the main charges take out the center of the roof and collapse the beams with smaller charges leap-frogging the length of the building. Smoke puffs out, providing a silvery gray backdrop for the purple and blue and green serpents of fire that come next. The black box is getting hot. Tony drops it and watches a second to be sure it's properly disintegrating before returning his attention to his fireworks.

He smiles as his lab goes up spectacularly, shooting multi-colored flames straight up. The fireworks fade, leaving the burning building to light the ground, making the sky darker by contrast, except for one thin line of arching light where the final firework seems to pause and go dark, and then bursts with a siren wail into a gloriously glowing golden smiley face. 

"Independence Day," Tony says happily.

**Author's Note:**

> I researched a bit on making gunpowder/fireworks/what phase the moon would be on July 4, 1981/what rock songs would be popular 1981. And Arthur's Theme reminded me not only how much I loved that movie, but how many points of similarity Arthur has to Tony.
> 
> Here's a nice Arthur video. If it vanishes, just remember, Arthur is short, alcoholic, rich, charming, has daddy issues, has a butler who loves him like a father, has fallen in love with a very capable woman who tries to resist his charm while she handles all the practical things he can't, including straightening his tie and bandaging his boo-boos. Arthur also drives (not in a race) a blue and white race car. And craves grilled cheese sandwiches. Arthur is however, utterly incapable of doing any useful work, and is far, far too gentle to ever fight with anyone.  
> [ Arthur music vid.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMdwFkO8xA0)


End file.
